Just the Opposite
by Peachh15
Summary: Beth Greene has got a little problem, and that problem's name is Merle Dixon. But she gets a little more than she bargained for when she decides to tell somebody her feelings... Merle/Beth (Meth)
1. Chapter 1

**AN: **So recently, I've become pretty obsessed with the Meth pairing. It just seems like they would be a perfect couple, but there are still hardly any Meth stories. So this would be the result of that- a warning, it's a little short. I can only hope it's not too terrible. It may be a one shot, it may not, just depends on if I think I wouldn't butcher their whole relationship with further chapters. Feedback would be appreciated!

Disclaimer: I do not own the Walking Dead, including Beth Greene and Merle Dixon

**Just the Opposite**

"What do you want, sweetheart? Huh?"

Beth Greene held the little bundle close to her chest, feeling the baby's warmth radiate through layers and layers of swaddling. Cooing a few nonsense words, Beth rocked her back and forth. Slowly- the way she liked.

Beth stood in Carol's cell next to Judith's crib. It had been insisted on by the older woman that when they did get a crib, it'd be put in her cell- and no one had argued, not for a second. Beth had been sorely tempted to. But she didn't want to cause any trouble, especially when Carol, a mother, would be much better suited to take care of the baby at odd hours. So she had to settle for a few hours here and there, like now- she'd managed to slip away while the majority of the group was outside, securing the fence. She wouldn't have been much help anyway.

"Hi there," she whispered again, finding herself lost in the girl's soft chocolate eyes. Her mother's eyes. They were so clear, so innocent. There was no pain held there, no suffering, which could be read plainly in any of the other survivors' eyes. They were beautiful.

Beth liked to believe that Judith did all her talking through those eyes. When she was grumpy, hungry for her formula, they clouded up into a murky color, and a little dent would form between her eyebrows. But when she was happy- when Rick held her, or Carol, Daryl, Beth, and Carl, all the people she had a little affinity for- they would brighten up and shine, clear as day.

Like they shone now.

"I know, I'm happy to see you too, Judy."

Beth loved holding Judith. It helped her…cope.

Some people -like Rick- went on patrol when they were upset, poured their anger into protecting what was theirs. Some went off in complete solitude and kept to themselves, like Daryl. But when Beth found herself in a particularly bad spot, she'd go straight for the baby. And just hold her, rock her. Hum a lullaby. Marvel at those sweet little eyes. And sometimes, when Beth got lonely in the middle of the night, she'd even creep down to the crib. And then she wasn't quite so lonely anymore. Countless times she had woken up on the cool concrete next to the homemade wooden contraption, Judith sleeping quietly above her.

It was just somehow much easier to fight her demons with the little baby tucked in her arms. Where she could feel that tiny heartbeat against her own. Beating, living. Just like hers.

And that's why she was holding her now.

"I know you don't understand what I'm saying, Little Asskicker," Beth began. She'd taken to using Daryl's pet name for the baby, careful to use it only when they were alone. "But I'm kind of worried."

Judith stared up with her wide, innocent eyes.

"Someone new came to the prison. His name is Merle. Merle Dixon."

Beth didn't really know why she talked to the baby. Or why she took so much comfort in it. But Maggie and her dad always were too busy working; on patrol or talking to Rick, respectively. She didn't want to bother them. They didn't need to hear such trivial things, when they were working so hard to keep the prison in working order. And who else would stand to hear her problems?

But when she told Judith, it worked out so perfectly. She could get everything off of her chest, every little problem, and baby Judith could hardly tell anyone about what she'd said. Two birds, one stone.

"Like I was saying, Judith, Daryl- he's the one that named you Asskicker- well, his brother just came here. From a town called Woodbury, where they held Maggie, and Glenn." Her voice dropped. "I'm not so sure about him. Daryl's really nice, and Merle's his brother. But he's kinda scary, Judith. And rude, too. I don't like the way he looks at some of us." Beth blew the air from her cheeks.

Judith opened her tiny pink mouth, letting out a quiet gargle. Her eyelashes fluttered.

Beth giggled. "I know. You just like hearing me talk, don't you?"

She grew serious once more, continuing to rock the baby. "I wish I would be able to tell someone about it," she sighed, "but I'm just the camp baby. Aside from you, of course. Maybe that's a good thing, though, because I'm not totally sure about him. Maybe he should stay."

"Good to know I got some support 'round here, sugar."

Beth froze, her heart sinking as she recognized to gruff, lazy voice. Scratchy- almost raspy.

Merle Dixon.

She slowly turned.

The man lounged against the iron bars of her cell, a taunting, self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face. For a suspended moment, they both stared at each other. Neither spoke- one unwilling and one unable. Heat was creeping up her neck. Flushed her cheeks. The sound of her heartbeat was so loud, so overwhelming, she wondered if Merle would be able to hear it.

"Merle," She suddenly sputtered, "what- what are you doing here?"

"Jus' making my rounds," he said easily, and grinned a Cheshire-cat smile. Beth didn't reply, just lowered her gaze.

"Why? You ain't _scared_ of lil' ole Merle, are ya?"

"No," she whispered quietly. So he had heard, heard those things no one was meant to hear her say. A little tremor of fear went through her, and suddenly, she wished she had never come in to see Judith.

"Oh, you ain't? So ya won' mind if I do this, then," he inched closer, and swung the barred gate to the cell shut.

Beth was trapped. She felt the man's icy blue gaze on her. Like a lion, she thought. And that made her the prey.

"I, I- uh." And apparently, she was no longer articulate. _Just stand your ground, Beth_, her head urged- but that was something she was not used to doing.

"I...guess not," managed to slip from her mouth.

His mouth twisted into a crooked smirk.

"So what's a pretty young thing like you doin' all alone up here? Playin' house?"

"I just thought Judith needed feeding," Beth lied, and slowly lowered the baby into her crib.

"Gave Officer Friendly the slip, huh? Thought you were all innocent and shit, princess. The holy farmer's daughter," he taunted.

Her rapidly beating heart stilled a little at that. Is that what everyone thought of her? That's all she was to them, the innocent one?

"Not really," she said, narrowing her eyes. Two could play at Merle Dixon's game.

And she wasn't some child he could play around with- Beth was seventeen years old to boot. So she could stand her ground.

"But that's what you said, ain't it? Camp baby," he growled, his voice lower. And all the bravery she'd felt just a second ago evaporated, as quick as it had come. A thrill of fear seared her nerves.

He started moving forward, and Beth didn't know she was shuffling back in response until the heels of her feet hit the wall.

He loomed over her. She watched, her breathing coming in quick, short gasps, as he raked his gaze over her body, appraising. His eyes lingered on the steep dip of her t-shirt. The exposed skin.

"Well, darlin', you got mighty nice tits for a baby," he chuckled, meeting her terrified gaze.

Cupping her chin, he tilted her jaw up, forcing the scared girl to meet his eyes. "Quit shakin', sugar. Ol' Merle's just teasin'. I ain't gonna hurt you."

He stepped closer, so close they were almost pressed together. She could feel his heartbeat, slow and steady, against her chest.

"Don't touch me," she choked out, somewhat deterred by the fingers still neatly clamped around her chin.

He only chuckled. "Looks like Little Miss Innocent's got herself a bit of a temper," he said. "Regular spitfire, ain't ya?"

The hand on her jaw loosened, moving down her neck, past her shoulder. She could feel its warmth against the thin fabric of her t-shirt, pulling the hem up slightly as it came to a halt on her hip. Beth shivered as his fingers dug into her skin. But the hand moved higher still. It gripped her waist with sure, firm fingers, his calloused thumb tracing little designs against the smooth skin of her stomach.

"Well, looks like I'm touchin' ya, sugar. An' you ain't doin' a thing 'bout it."

Beth's throat closed as his fingers slid back and forth. Slowly grazing her side, over her belly, and back again. A slow, languid circle.

"I-I..." She tried, but no words would come out. Only a soft whimper.

His victorious gaze met hers; frosty, cold blue meeting with soft turquoise. For a moment- or possibly several hours, she wasn't sure- all Beth could do was helplessly look into those eyes. Again, she was trapped.

Somewhere far away, she thought she could hear something that sounded suspiciously like the main door slamming shut. It didn't really matter. She didn't care.

"Beth?" a familiar voice echoed. "Beth, are you up there? It's nearly feeding time!"

Carol.

She sucked in a breath as the fingers on her hip tightened, nails digging into her skin. Merle grinned.

"I ain't finished with this yet, darlin'," he chuckled. And just like that, he turned and strolled casually out of her cell as if nothing had ever happened. Beth felt a little dizzy.

"You know what, Judith? I think I've changed my mind."


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: **Thank you so much for all the reviews! The response actually made me write this chapter and try to continue the story. I hope you like this chapter better than I do, it was the best of several, and I mean several, attempts. Feedback is always appreciated!

**Just the Opposite**- Chapter Two

_Drip, drip, drip_.

The dull sound of water droplets splashing against concrete reached Beth's ears, the first thing that always welcomed her before she stepped foot in the prison showers. _Drip, drip_. It was a relaxing sound. Somehow, the rhythmic pattering always seemed to set her at ease.

The room was empty as she slipped in; as it always was.

It had been a deliberate move, choosing to take her showers exactly halfway between lunch and dinner- without a doubt the peak of the average prison day. You were either busy with watch, or the baby, or any of the typical grunt work like tending to the crops or, more recently, helping to fortify the perimeter.

And typically, she'd have her hands full enough with Judith. But a few precious days a week she'd set aside for quick scrub-downs in the communal showers. It was nothing like the long, luxurious, fruity-shampoo-and-washcloth filled showers of old. This was five to ten minutes with her hands and a less than promising bar of drugstore brand soap.

But it was worth every uneventful minute.

And all because of one thing: privacy.

Lately, alone time had become a rare commodity, a priceless thing. Everyone was always talking. Worrying. The looming threat of the Governor was enough for the group to turn to the good ol' reliable tactics- like the buddy system. It was unspoken, yes, but ultimately carried through- wherever you went, someone was bound to go with you. And showers were no exception. But the other women had the wonderfully good grace to entrust her with taking showers privately every few days, as it was only a two minute walk away from their cell block.

And today, she was even more grateful at the prospect of a few stolen moments of solitude.

Today, she needed to clear her mind.

Beth rubbed her temples in frustration. Just this morning she'd been in Carol's cell, the feel of cool concrete against her back. Just this morning she'd stood still, rendered speechless, as Merle Dixon traced hypnotic little designs against the smooth skin of her stomach, her hip. The thought instantly sent blood rushing to her cheeks; a feeling that had become all too familiar over the last few hours.

She'd almost grown tired of thinking about it.

Dropping her towel to the floor, Beth began to peel off her sweaty, dirt-ridden clothing. She'd brought a new T-shirt, and a freshly laundered pair of jeans- the idea of being clean, dressed in unspotted clothes- it was heaven. She only wished for a bottle of her old strawberry scented shampoo, and the matching conditioner. A razor would be nice. And some body wash...anything but the tiny bar of manly-smelling soap clenched in her hand.

Oh, well. Beggars couldn't be choosers, could they? She should be happy she even got soap at all.

Beth crossed her arms over her chest before plodding over to one of the showerheads. One of her more unshakeable habits, the product of being raised with Christian values on keeping the body a temple- a very _private_ temple. As she turned the dial for water, she couldn't help but think of her sister. Maggie would willingly shower with all the women in the camp, and probably some of the men, too. It was just the way she was; not overly immodest, just a free spirit. That's what Beth's momma would say_- a free spirit._ She wouldn't care less about prancing about naked, simply because she didn't care what anyone else thought.

_And here I am, covering up when no one else is even around_, Beth thought. Even she knew she was a bit of a prude. With Jimmy she'd gone no further than a bit of fumbling in her room, a few sloppy kisses here and there. No one but Maggie had ever had the choice opportunity of catching a glimpse of her naked.

Beth groaned. No wonder Merle had such an easy time making her blush.

The water suddenly hissed to life, splashing Beth's left shoulder. It was freezing, bone-chillingly cold. But she didn't mind. Now now that it was summer, she was almost grateful for the water temperature. It was refreshing.

Taking a deep breath, the girl stepped forward, directly under the spray. Better to get it over with. Like ripping off a bandaid. And after a few gasping seconds, she settled down nicely, albeit the chattering teeth and masses of goosebumps.

Beth sighed quietly.

The water coursed down her arms, flattening her blonde hair and tracing down the small of her back. She violently scrubbed with the tiny bar of soap. Not just to remove the dirt and grime, but that one other thing that felt permanently stuck to her skin: the remaining ghost of Merle's touch.

She had been keeping a close eye on the man.

Watching. Waiting. Those last words kept replaying in the front of her mind, over and over- "_I ain't finished with this yet, darlin'._" Clearly, he was foreshadowing something. But all he'd done was avoid her, and do a good job at it, too; he'd stayed outside all day, never once stepping foot back in the cell block. Even ate his lunch in the watchtower.

Which left her somewhat uncertain, a little confused, and very scared. All she could do was wait. And rethink about what had happened...

At first, when he'd so casually strolled out of the cell, she was torn. Torn between which choice she was going to make. Was she going to tell, go snitch to Carol or Rick or Maggie? That was the push Glenn was looking for- all she needed to say was that the man put a finger on her, and he'd be thrown out in a heartbeat. A millisecond. The fact that Merle Dixon had put a hand on innocent little Beth Greene would cause nothing short of a riot. And Maggie? She'd be out for blood.

But something stopped her. Obviously, she knew that going out and saying something like that would be _wrong_. Just plain wrong. He'd hardly touched her. And he hadn't hurt her or intended to, not in the slightest. A casual hand on a girl's hip was hardly a criminal offense- but in her hands it could be a death sentence. The thought sickened her. She knew that the group would believe her without a doubt, and she could probably spew any lie she wanted to.

And the idea made her heart twist.

Everyone thought that low of Merle, that they wouldn't give him a single chance. Not one. And she knew it.

Well, Beth Greene wasn't everyone. And was it just her, or had she seen something in the man's usually hard eyes when she had been trapped by them? A teasing light. A carefulness.

So she made her decision- no one was going to find out.

Beth reluctantly turned off the water, and hurried to her towel. Sighing as she pulled on the clean pants, the new shirt. It was just like she'd pictured- heaven. Toweling off her damp blonde locks, she began to make her way upstairs.

Now she just had to make it through dinner.

TWDTWDTWDTWD

"Hey, Carol,"

"Hmm?"

"Can i ask you somethin'?"

Beth and Carol loitered in the kitchen, the last dish having been dried and tucked away not a minute before. The room was growing dimmer with shadow each minute as the sun went down.

Dinner, she found out, was nothing she should have worried about. Merle went in, got food, and then ambled right back on out again. All the while not sending a single glance in Beth's direction. Not a single bat of an eyelash.

And now she wanted answers.

"Carol, what do you think about...about Merle Dixon?" Beth kept her eyes glued to hands, praying to God that her face wasn't already flushing pink.

"Merle? Why do you ask?" Carol didn't sound suspicious, merely curious. So Beth forced herself to take a deep breath and keep talking.

"Umm, I had heard a few things from Maggie and them, and I don't really know much about him. But I heard he's dangerous," she lied through her teeth, feeling a rush of shame. She _hated_ to lie.

"Well, Beth, that's kind of...hard to say. And I don't think it's really my place to judge. Merle's a rough man, and he's not very up to par on his people skills, or listening skills, for that matter. But he won't be any danger with Daryl here," Carol spoke with assurance.

"Daryl?" Beth queried, curious.

"Yes. Merle probably doesn't like to admit it, but that brother of his has quite the hold on him. He won't do anything to upset him right now, without a doubt."

"Oh. But then why do the others hate him so much?" This was the one she wanted to know. The one that kept tugging at the back of her mind.

"Because of what he's done- starting with his stunt on that rooftop on Atlanta, ending with what he just put Maggie and Glenn through in Woodbury. He's given us a fair amount of grief. And they're scared of him, Beth. We don't really know what he's capable of." Carol looked a bit sad, now, as if she didn't like the truth herself.

"Oh, I see. Thank you, Carol."

So the others were scared of him.

To be honest, she didn't blame them. Even a part of her was frightened of Merle.

But it intrigued her, about Daryl. It kind of showed- maybe there was something like love in him, deep down. Her heart warmed at the thought.

"Beth, honey?" Her thoughts were abruptly cut off as Carol waved a hand past her face. "Speaking of Merle, he's up on watch. Would you mind taking up this coffee to him?"

And that's how Beth Greene found herself outside Merle Dixon's watchtower door, a cup of coffee clenched in hand and her heart about to come bursting right out of her chest.

Hesitantly, she raised a shaking hand and knocked.

"Who is it?" The voice was smothered by the thick iron door, but there was no mistaking that rasp.

"It's me, Beth." she called sweetly, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice.

"Sugar, tha' you? Th' fuck you doin' out at this hour? " He paused for a second. "'Less of course ya want yourself a second taste a ole' Merle!"

She could hear the laughter from outside.

"No, no," she said, a bit exasperatedly. "Carol sent me up with some coffee."

"Well, bring 'er in, darlin', th' fuck ya just standin' there for?"

Beth pushed open the door, her eyes taking a moment to adjust to the darkness. She could make out his shadowy form across the room, a silhouette against the pale moonlight streaming in from the window. Shyly, she stepped forward.

"Where do you want me to put it?" She asked politely.

"Jus' bring it over here, sugar, I don' bite- 'less ya ask me to."

"Okay," Beth whispered. Unsure, she shuffled forward, and gently laid the cup in his outstretched hand.

"Be careful," she warned. "It's hot."

"I'm good at handlin' hot things, sugar. Jus' a perk a bein' a Dixon," he chuckled, and she heard the light clink of ceramic being set on a concrete floor.

She wasn't prepared for the hand that shot out from somewhere in the dark, grabbing her by the waist and yanking her foward.

"You've been thinkin' about me, haven't ya?" His voice rumbled a few inches from her face, low and husky.

"I-I-" For the second time that day, she was speechless. Trapped. He started moving his thumb over her thin shirt, tracing those same patterns, heat radiating from his hand. Her legs shook.

He rasped out a low chuckle. "Wha'? Ya like this?"

The hand moved stealthily under her shirt, and it came to rest against her hip, nails making little circles against the soft skin of her back. His calloused thumb slid under the waistband of her jeans, continuing the little circling designs.

Her eyelashes fluttered closed.

She heard a soft mutter. "Dammit."

Then louder- "_dammit_!"

And suddenly the hand was yanked back, and she found herself being pushed backwards with a surprisingly gentle force.

"Merle- what-" Beth gasped, her face flushing scarlet. Her feet stumbled, but she righted herself, heart pounding.

"Sugar, ya best get th' fuck outta here."


End file.
